Of Course He Hasn't
by tearsofamiko
Summary: How much time does it take to make the mind believe what the heart tries to deny? ONE-SHOT


Title: Of Course He Hasn't

Author: Tearsofamiko

Rating: K

Disclaimer: DPB is such a lucky man, though what he gets out of owning such hot male characters is beyond me.

Spoilers: _Agent Afloat_, vague _Last Man Standing_

Summary: How much time does it take to make the mind believe what the heart tries to deny?

A/N: I just couldn't forget the way Ziva's voice catches as she reminds Tony that he could've called…

* * *

During the first few weeks, she'd kept her phone on her person everywhere. There was nowhere she went that she couldn't be reached. And she checked the call-log every five minutes, fully hoping that it was the phone's fault that she didn't hear from him. But the phone failed her each time. Oh, she got calls from Abby and emails from McGee. But it never showed a call from him. So she waited, deciding that patience would help her more than impatience. Of course he hasn't forgotten her already.

During the first two months, she jumped when the phone rang and scrambled to answer it, sure that he'd called at last. But she was always disappointed. It would be her father or one of her new colleagues, each presenting a new lead or new case that needs her expertise. So she throws herself into her work, deciding that he hasn't called because there was no reception or he's just been too busy. Of course he hasn't forgotten her yet.

At the end of the third month, she's stopped expecting. If the phone rings, she simply answers it and doesn't hope for anything more. She keeps up with her old friends through McGee's emails and her weekly call to Abby, but somehow never hears about him. And she remembers the way it had been before, when they all worked as a team. But it's her past now and Mossad is her future and forgetting that hurts too much. So she deliberately pushes it away, deciding that distance in her heart will help her more than clinging to what can't be. Of course she hasn't forgotten him, but he's apparently forgotten her.

At the end of the fourth month, she doesn't care whether she hears from anyone in America. She misses them, terribly, but she'll not travel that route again. Her position was terminated; she's stuck in the place she once called home with the man she once called 'father.' Nothing, she thinks, will ever take her down that road again.

Until the phone rings after a botched mission in Morocco.

The gruff voice of her ex-boss curls around her, reminding her of everything she left behind. Of all the excitement she'd left. Of all the people. It's only business prompting his call, but it takes her back to the days when she'd worked with Gibbs, McGee and...Tony. She chokes up as she tells Gibbs she misses them, can't bring herself to ask after NCIS's newest agent afloat.

And when the phone rings again, a week later, she can't believe the voice that tells her she's coming back. To believe it would be to open herself to the old hurt. But it does happen; in less time than seems possible she's on a plane back to D.C. And only on the plane does she allow herself to consider Tony. And a conspicuous absence of phone calls.

When finally faced with the agent in question days later aboard his current assignment, it's hard to believe the changes she sees in him. He's tanned and healthy, but thinner, more care-worn, with a new sort of independence that speaks of his time on the ship. Oh, he jokes and laughs the same as always, but there's a subtle edge to him, a desperation that wasn't there before.

"You seem different," she remarks, a thousand questions in one phrase.

"Taller? Hotter?" he jokes, grinning slightly.

"Older." The word falls heavily between them.

"Well, 's'been over four months."

Silence reigns for a moment, till something in his expression prompts her to question him. "Still beating yourself up over Jenny?" she queries, carefully watching his reaction.

"Not as much as I used to," he quips, his gaze rising to meet hers.

"Drinking?"

"Not as much as I used to." There's a tired sort of strain she hears in his voice. It hurts, to hear the self-reproach he still feels. She continues to watch him, not backing down as he returns her gaze.

"You could have called." She can't help it, can't completely mask the tremble in her voice. She hadn't meant to bring up his silence. He simply watches her, not quite moving to respond. Then Gibbs walks in and the moment is gone.

She avoids dealing with the silence she endured. It's too distracting and she needs to focus. Besides, they're together again, if only briefly. So it doesn't matter, even if he'd forgotten her then. They fall back into the same pattern from four months ago, the same give and take they'd perfected over the years. Neither mentions their earlier conversation, or their lack of one over the months.

They finish the case together and duty calls Gibbs and her back to headquarters. Tony follows them, finishing his job, and it's wrenching to know he'll leave again, but there's nothing to be done. So she settles in, prepares to wait another four months to hear from him again. Maybe she'll be ready for it. Maybe this time, it won't hurt so much when there's only silence. Of course he'll forget again, bikini pictures notwithstanding.

And then he's there. Not on the _Seahawk_. Not in the middle of the ocean. In the bullpen, laughing with her, provoking McGee. And he's there to stay. She won't have to deal with the silence again.

As his eyes meet hers, he smiles warmly at her. And she realizes something, something maybe she knew all along.

He hadn't really forgotten at all.


End file.
